Something More
by NervousNeville
Summary: Neville is down in the dumps because women always see him as a "great friend" and nothing more. Right when he's complaining to his old Hogwarts friends about his lack of love life, lo and behold, the woman of his dreams enters. They become acquainted, and it's going swimmingly! But can it really be so simple? (Slightly AU.)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"I just don't understand," Neville sighed as he unceremoniously set his pumpkin juice on the table, spilling it slightly. His sigh deepened before he wiped up the spill and continued, "I know I'm not an amazing catch or anything, but I don't know why women never see me as relationship material."

"Except the bloody crazy ones," Ron interjected with a chuckle, followed by a chastising smack on the arm by Hermione.

Luna Lovegood had pursued—or rather, stalked—Neville for years after their time at Hogwarts ended, and she never quite gathered that he was utterly terrified of her. Luckily for him, she finally backed off when she decided to travel the world and hunt for the elusive (and as far as Neville was concerned, imaginary) Narball, a creature that she purported was half nargle and half Chinese fireball dragon.

Neville shuddered at the thought of her.

Hermione, looking pensive, stood up and walked toward the fireplace before commenting over her shoulder, "I'll be right back. Ministry business." In a puff of floo powder, she was gone.

Harry, who was sitting next to his own wife Ginny, wasn't sure how to comfort his old friend, so he offered the professor a drink instead, "Are you sure you don't want a butterbeer? Or a fire whiskey? My treat! It might help take your mind off of things."

Those "things" that occupied Neville's mind were his string of false-start non-relationships, and in particular, his most recent rejection. He'd been frequenting the Leaky Cauldron, not for their strong alcohol or subpar food, but for thinly disguised social calls with the establishment's newest landlady, his former classmate Hannah Abbott. A week ago, he finally worked up the courage to ask her out for a real date, and she turned him down as kindly as she could. She said she saw him only as a "great friend" and nothing more.

"No thanks, Harry," he said as he surveyed his happily married friends. "There's not much you can do to help, I'm afraid. I'm just tired of being a 'great friend' and nothing more."

The bell above the front door of the Three Broomsticks jingled, and Hermione walked back to their table and sat down.

"That was quick." Ron said.

She took a sip of her gillywater and waved his comment away, "Oh yeah, I just had to sign something that I forgot needed to be posted today."

Ginny looked suspicious, "Didn't you use the floo network? Why did you come back through the door?"

Again she shooed away the invisible comment in the air, "The floo line was long, so I apparated just outside of Hogsmeade."

The bell above the door jingled again. The door opened slightly before it paused.

"Just a moment. Wait right here," came the muffled but familiar voice of Headmistress McGonagall.

She entered the pub and walked straight to their table.

"Professor, I need some assistance," she said to Neville.

"Yes, headmistress?" he replied nervously.

She had a habit of asking him to be much more of a leader than he was comfortable being. He still hasn't gotten over the brief week when he was assigned to play the lead in a faculty performance of the classic play "Alas, I Have Transfigured My Feet" for the students. He fainted and fell off the stage during their first dress rehearsal.

"This year we will be incorporating professional development for our professors since many of them have been using some..." she paused to look for the most tactful word and pursed her lips, "_unconventional_ teaching strategies in their lessons. We have an education expert who has just arrived from overseas, but I have some urgent business to deal with at the Ministry of Magic."

Neville nodded, not quite following.

"I need someone to give her a tour of the school and help her become acquainted with our ways. She's a muggle, and she's only recently learned of magic, thanks to special approval from the Ministry. Can you take her to Hogwarts and show her around?"

"Um, sure, but—"

Due to his recent discouragement, he was about to express his hesitation to spend hours of social awkwardness alone with an unfamiliar woman, but the headmistress interrupted him before he could continue.

"Perfect," she whipped around and walked toward the door. She opened it and said to the person on the other side, "Come in. I've found one of my professors to give you a tour of our school."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

McGonagall guided a young woman through the door to their table. The woman was tall but plump, and she had a friendly warmth to her face and a clear propensity for smiling most of the time. As soon as the headmistress gestured toward Neville, their guest extended a hand and shared a grin with the professor.

McGonagall turned to Hermione and said, "Minister?" Hermione nodded as she gestured to the door, and they left together.

"Hi! I'm Angie. Nice to meet you!" the young woman said in an American accent.

He couldn't help but mirror her genuine smile as he shook her hand.

"And you are...?" she laughed.

Neville had never appreciated being laughed at, but he could tell she wasn't laughing at his expense. It seemed to him as if she decorated her speech with her warm laughter to welcome others into her light.

He still hadn't responded, so Angie let go of his hand and gave him a reassuring nod.

"Oh! Um, Professor Longbottom. Neville. It's a... it's a pleasure to meet you," he managed with a shy nod in return while he adjusted his tweed vest self-consciously.

Her grin widened, "The pleasure's all mine, Neville! So you're going to be showing me around? This is all really new to me: Hogwarts, England, magic..."

This time her chuckle was slightly nervous, but she never broke eye contact with her new colleague, which sent a bit of an unexpected chill down his spine. He opened the door and motioned for her to exit the building in front of him.

Neville focused on his steps, making sure they weren't too fast or too slow, since he was still measurably taller than Angie in spite of her height. He also fixated on where to put his hands and moved them from his elbows to his hips before finally settling on his pockets so he could rhythmically tap his wand against his leg in the hopes of managing his anxiety.

Soon he realized that he hadn't made eye contact or spoken for an uncomfortable amount of time. Rather, it made him feel uncomfortable and awkward in his own skin, but his companion looked thoroughly at ease as she observed the village around her while they walked. Her face indicated that she was anything but displeased with her surroundings and company, which helped Neville relax a bit.

"So," she turned to him with a smile that he couldn't help but reflect, "If you had to pick one thing, what's your favorite part about magic? I'm sure you grew up immersed in this world, so you might not be able to answer that question, but I'm curious, as a... muddle?"

He crinkled his nose happily at her mistake, "Muggle, actually."

"Ah, muggle! I'm curious, as a muggle."

"Well, I'd have to say..." he thought for a moment, looking down the path at the magic school in the distance, "Well, there's this plant, this magical plant, called 'fluxweed.' Most of the time, if you harvest it, it won't have any magical properties at all. It's just a weed. But if you pick it on the full moon, it's got some intense healing power that's used for potions in a lot of life-or-death situations. It looks identical during the full moon as it does any other day of the month, but you've got to pick it and have faith that it will do its job and hopefully save a life. That's what I like about magic; it requires faith, and as someone who's not great with uncertainty, I really appreciate that it makes me have faith that things will work out the way they're supposed to."

Angie was fascinated, "Oh wow! That's amazing! Magic is so new to me. I feel like it would make me anxious just waving a wand or stirring up a potion and hoping it works. I'm a skeptical person, though. Your headmistress had to put on quite a show for me before I would believe she was actually doing magic. She even flipped my house upside down, and I was still certain there was a non-magical explanation for it!"

They both laughed at the absurdity of her extreme skepticism, and then they looked up to realize they had reached the gates of the school.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Neville waved his wand at each of the two winged boar statues guarding the gates, and the statues, in turn, flapped their wings three times as each of the two gate doors opened. Angie's eyes widened in Neville's direction, and she giggled at the novelty of the entrance process. The professor puffed his chest up a bit in pride, even though the spell was so easy he could do it silently at this point. Given his recent track record, he definitely needed the confidence boost of impressing a lady like her.

"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" he exclaimed while his colleague gasped at the sight of the enormous castle. He continued while they approached the main entrance. "First, you'll see the entrance hall. Don't be alarmed if the suits of armor move. If they see that they startled you, they'll start pranking you when you walk past in the future... Trust me. After that, I think I'd like to show you the Great Hall."

They walked through the entrance hall, and a suit of armor tapped Angie on the shoulder. She raised her eyebrows, giggled, turned around, and said with her hands on her hips, "Yes? May I help you?"

A sheepish cough emitted from the suit, and it returned to its stationary pose.

Angie turned to Neville and clapped him gently on the arm as she bent over in laughter. He joined in, but with a nervous laugh. Her casual touch made him shiver, and his newfound confidence from showing off his magic skills instantly disappeared.

She looked up at him as the last of their snickers died off, and her eyes lingered on his for a moment as she beamed at him. Suddenly, she gasped in wonder.

"Is that the Great Hall?! Oh my goodness, it's amazing!"

He watched her eyes twinkle in the light of the lanterns.

She asked him to tell her about how meal times work in the expansive, currently empty hall. He explained that the four houses sit at the long tables, and faculty sit at the table in the front of the room.

"But here's the best part," he said as he waved her to the faculty table. "What sort of food do you like?"

She said, "Well, I'm vegetarian, but I'm open to anything without meat. As an American, I don't know if I'm familiar with much of the food that you typically eat over here."

He thought for a few seconds and waved his wand over a serving dish, and food appeared in an instant.

"How about vegetarian fish and chips? It's made with tofu."

The corners of her mouth curled up to round the apples of her cheeks, and she said, "That sounds fantastic! Can you join me?"

He pulled out a chair for her and replied, "Of course. I've got to show you the proper way to eat it—with brown sauce and vinegar!"

They sat and chatted while they ate. Normally, Neville wasn't skilled at small talk, but she clearly was, and she could make a statement about the weather feel like an intimate sharing of insightful philosophy. He was as anxious as he usually was around new people, especially attractive women, but he saw such amiability in her that he didn't mind the anxiety. He wanted to hang on her every word, even if she did make his palms sweat.

As they finished the last of their chips, Angie surveyed the long tables, "I meant to ask, how do students get sorted into houses? Is there a quiz they take or something?"

His eyes lit up excitedly, and he jumped up to grab something from a cabinet behind them.

"Actually," he said, "we use this."

He set the dusty sorting hat on the table beside her.

"What's that?" she asked as she eyed it closely.

"I'm the sorting hat," it said from a tear along its brim. "I can see you're not a student, but you'd like to know who you are."

Neville picked up the hat, "Want to give it a go?"

Hesitant at first, she said, "Um... Yes. Yes, I would."

He gingerly placed it on top of her blonde bun, and the hat began pondering aloud, "Ahhh... Rather intelligent and quite analytical. A confident one, I see... Oh, and so kind, so very kind. There's a strength and a fierceness, but never at the expense of kindness. A resourceful leader, but not ambitious... Plenty of selflessness, I see, and a desire to care for others... Let's go with... Hufflepuff!"

Neville lifted the hat off her head. He'd rather liked hearing about her, and all of his suspicions about what kind of person she is were true. He was very excited about this blossoming friendship, and he wondered if he could be something more than just a "great friend" for once.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

After they finished with the sorting hat, Neville and Angie continued their tour of the grounds. He showed her the moving staircases and taught her memory tricks for not getting lost, although he admitted that he still occasionally did after all these years. They explored the owlery, where he explained the way the magical post system works, and they climbed the astronomy tower, where Angie shared some of her knowledge of muggle science. They briefly walked by the quidditch pitch, and Neville confessed that he'd love to show her the heights, but he's not a great flier. In response, Angie assured him that she's terrified of heights, but given her fascination with the idea of levitating on a broom, he thought she might have just been sparing his feelings.

During the tour, Angie remained utterly mesmerized and exceptionally down-to-earth, and Neville remained rather nervous—and even if he might not admit it to himself, completely smitten.

Soon they reached the greenhouses, and Neville guided her inside the Greenhouse 3 and said, "I don't have the liberty of showing you many classrooms, but these greenhouses are my domain. Herbology is really fascinating, but I won't bore you by going on about plants."

She gently touched his upper arm and sent the butterflies in his stomach into a tizzy. She laughed incredulously and said, "Are you kidding? I just found out magic is real, and I'm just now wrapping my head around the idea that there's more to reality than I thought. Of course I want to hear about magical plants! Besides, it's clearly something you're passionate about, and I love the way people rave about their passions. So go on, tell me whatever you like."

He internally chastised himself because he instantly blushed at her reference to passion.

_Get it together, Neville! What are you, a pubescent third year?! _

He turned away quickly, hoping she didn't see the blood rush to his face, but he heard a stifled giggle that told him that he probably wasn't quick enough.

"Well, over here," he said with a gesture, "we have Abyssinian Shrivelfigs, Leaping Toadstools, and Mandrakes. Mandrakes are very useful when they're mature because they're used in antidotes, but they're quite temperamental. And in this area, we have Puffapods..."

He waved his wand at a large pink pod that was dangling from a bush and used a spell to pull out a shining bean. He told Angie to hold out her hand, and he lowered the seed into her palm. The instant it touched her skin, it transformed into a beautiful pink flower.

She gasped in delight and tried to slip the delicate flower into a bobby pin she had just above her ear, but she paused and said, "It's so pretty, and I don't want to ruin it. Can you help me?"

He took a deep breath, and his heart raced as he raised his hand to her head. He grabbed the flower by its short stem and lifted open the pin in her hair. A soft blonde strand fell into her face, and he chuckled nervously, "Erm, sorry..."

Her smile deepened reassuringly, and she said, "It's okay, really!"

She made no move to adjust the hair, so he brushed it back toward the bobby pin, grazing her cheek gently with his fingers. He could feel her warm breath, and he thought he felt it quicken at his touch, but he was certain it was his hopeful imagination going wild. He carefully pinned the hair and flower in place.

"Lovely," he said breathlessly. "You—It looks lovely."

"Thank you for the gorgeous flower, Neville. I've really enjoyed my introduction to your incredible world today. You've made it... It's been really enjoyable."

They maintained eye contact and stood in silence for a moment that felt to him like an eternity. He knew this might be one of those special intimate situations that can only end with a kiss, but he just met her, and he had an unfortunate track record of assessing these moments incorrectly in the past. They might be sharing an intense kinetic energy that could lead to something amazing, or they might just be new acquaintances and colleagues.

Colleagues. That's right. They were colleagues. Was he even professionally allowed to pursue his interest in her? Were his feelings wholly inappropriate and destined to go nowhere?

He furrowed his brow at the realization of this concern.

Her face mirrored his worry, and she said, "Is something—"

With a brisk turn of the knob, the door to the greenhouse opened.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Ah, there you two are!" McGonagall entered at her signature decisive pace. "Have you managed to see everything yet?"

Neville masked his disappointment and kept his response matter-of-fact, "Almost. Everything except the East Wing."

"Perfect," the headmistress responded before turning to Angie. "Your office and quarters are in the East Wing, Ms. Schmidt. Your bags have already been delivered. I'll show you if you'll follow me."

"Sounds great," Angie said, and then she extended a hand for Neville to shake. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Professor Longbottom. Thank you for showing me around!"

With his mind on her impending absence and his newfound concerns about his infatuation with her, he only managed a "you're welcome" and a brief handshake before they were gone.

Immediately, he headed for his office, which was in the herbology tower adjacent to the greenhouses. He began searching the drawers of his desk, and when he couldn't find the object of his search, he scanned the many bookshelves that lined the walls of the office. After several minutes, on the top shelf behind a large dusty tome, he finally found it: The Official Faculty Handbook of Procedures, Policies, and Preferences for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 12th Edition.

He sat down at his desk and skimmed the table of contents until he came across the section for Professionalism and Integrity - page 82. He turned to the page and read through it carefully until he found the part he was looking for, which read:

_Intimate personal relationships among colleagues are generally permitted, as long as the relationships do not interfere with faculty members' ability to maintain professional conduct and high quality teaching practices. Inter-colleague relations may lead individual employees to be subject to official discipline if: a.) students witness inappropriate or sexual behavior, b.) relationships are formed between a supervisor and a subordinate, and/or c.) class attendance or teaching quality are detrimentally affected by the relationship. Official discipline, at the discretion of the headmaster or headmistress, may range from a warning to immediate termination. _

The phrase "relationships among colleagues are generally permitted" circled around his head over and over, and he whistled a happy tune as he climbed the spiral staircase that led to his flat. When he reached the top, he unlocked the door to his quarters and started to get ready for bed, since he had an early morning faculty meeting the next day.

Was the spark he thought he felt between them real? As he changed out of his day clothes, his thoughts lingered on every brief touch they had shared, and he hoped they were the first of many more.

Could she really be interested in him? He paused brushing his teeth and closed his eyes, imagining her charming smile, the boisterous melody of her laugh, the passion with which she spoke to him, and the intensity with which she always seemed to lock eyes with him.

He finished brushing his teeth, and he rinsed his face in the bathroom sink. Drying off with a towel, he looked at himself in the mirror. The natural roundness never left his face, even with the weight loss he experienced years before during the war. Perhaps she wouldn't mind, since she had a pleasant plumpness to her face as well—_and every other part of her_, Neville reminded himself with some degree of embarrassment, even though no other soul knew about where his thoughts had strayed. He looked closer in the mirror. His eyes were alright, he thought to himself. He wasn't a fan of his large, crooked teeth, however, and he felt like his lips were too small for his face. Pushing aside his insecurity, he thought about her mouth instead, and more particularly, the lips that weren't too full or too thin, which always seemed to be positioned in a slight pucker when she wasn't smiling completely.

Neville turned off the bathroom light and headed to bed. As he started to drift off, he wondered what it would be like to kiss her plump lips, to hold her softness close to him, to wax philosophical late at night with her, and to wake up next to her sunny smile every day.

He decided he'd really like to find out.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Neville entered the faculty lounge and scanned the room. His face dropped when he didn't see her, but then he heard her voice just behind him.

"Hey! Where are you sitting?"

His face lit up as he turned toward her, "Good morning! Um, how about here?"

They sat on a plush couch together, and they chatted while they waited for the meeting to begin. Angie still had the Puffapod flower he gave her in her hair, and he couldn't help but feel special that she chose to wear it again.

"So," she said, "what are the three most important things in the world to you?"

He laughed because he was rather taken aback. She laughed at herself and said, "Sorry, I tend to jump into the deep end with small talk sometimes!"

He grinned and replied, "No, I love it! I'd have to say... Well, my family is really important to me. I never really got to know my parents because they... have a complicated medical condition. I was raised by my Gran, and it's hard because her health is starting to fail a bit. I don't have much family, but they mean the world to me."

She gave him a sympathetic smile, "I think that's wonderful. Not the difficult parts, but the fact that you cherish what you have right now. My dad died a couple of years ago, and I wish I had developed a better relationship with him before he got cancer. We got close after his diagnosis, but it just wasn't enough time."

She looked distantly at the wall behind his shoulder for a moment, but then she looked at him warmly and continued, "So what else is on your list?"

Before he could begin, McGonagall stood at the head of the room and commanded everyone's attention.

"Welcome back to our veteran professors, and welcome to our new faces. I hope everyone has had a restful break, and I hope you're ready to work hard again this year. Before you can go to your respective classrooms to prepare for the incoming students next week, we have some housekeeping matters to address. First, Mr. Filch has asked that there be no smoking in the building after last year's couch fire incident. Teachers who smoke may do so in the courtyards or the benches by the quidditch practice field."

There was some grumbling from a couple of older professors before she continued, "Second, we have some new positions on our faculty this year. The heads of house and I have decided to mirror some of the positive aspects of muggle schools and international schools. We have hired a school counselor who will be here to address a variety of students' needs and optimize students' schedules to their goals, and we have also hired an instructional coach to support your performance as teachers. Our instructional coach will also become our new Muggle Studies professor in the spring when Professor Johnson takes her maternity leave—congratulations, Mrs. Johnson!"

There was a decent amount of applause, and the headmistress asked the new school counselor to introduce herself to the faculty. She was a young muggle from America named Fiona Fletcher, and this was her third year as a counselor. She was married briefly to an American wizard, so she assured them she was familiar enough with magical culture. The expressions on the audience's faces were skeptical, but not unkind. She briefly explained what a school counselor does, and their expressions softened slightly as she spoke.

She finished her introduction and Professor McGonagall continued, "And now for our instructional coach... Ms. Schmidt, please come here and tell us a bit about yourself and your role here."

Angie nodded and walked to the front of the lounge. She began, "Hi, everyone! I'm Angelica Schmidt, but you can feel free to call me Angie. I taught science for six years in muggle schools, and I have a doctorate in Instructional Leadership."

Neville's heart skipped a beat as he watched her introduced herself. She had an amiable but commanding presence and a voice that projected across the room particularly well, even for a loud American. Her outgoing nature made him nervous in all the best ways, and as she surveyed the room, he felt certain that her eyes were lingering on him a bit longer than anyone else. He couldn't help but smile and blush when she looked his way.

Some of the crowd seemed as hesitant about her as they were about the new counselor, but she continued, "I will be working closely with each of you to find ways to improve your students' learning. I'm not here to tell you how to teach; you know how to do that. I'm here to observe you and collaborate with you to see how you can expand upon your expertise. I have also been tasked with conducting a formal quarterly teaching evaluation, but I promise I will work closely with each of you leading up to that, and I want to make it as stress-free as possible. I'd also like to visit briefly with each of you before classes begin so we can get acquainted. Headmistress McGonagall has asked me to begin my first round of observations the second week of school so you can get into the swing of things the first week. Please don't hesitate to approach me if you have any questions or concerns! Thank you, everybody!"

Something about her speech made Neville anxious, but he struggled to pinpoint what it was.

Angie sat back down next to him and whispered, "How did I do? Could you tell that I was nervous?"

He smiled in spite of his unexplained discomfort and said, "I would have never guessed. You did fantastic!"

She chuckled in relief and beamed at him. Everything in the room except her went fuzzy to Neville, and he only snapped back to reality when she stood up after the teachers had been dismissed.

"I've got a meeting with the heads of house right now, but I'll catch you later?"

"Sounds great," he responded with an air of distraction, for his heart had suddenly sank into his stomach. He just realized why her speech had made him uneasy.

He rushed to his office and pulled his faculty handbook out again. Skimming quickly, he found the passage that was weighing on his mind.

"Inter-colleague relations may lead individual employees to be subject to official discipline if... relationships are formed between a supervisor and a subordinate."

She would be conducting formal evaluations of his teaching, and he worried that it meant she was considered his supervisor. If she were his supervisor, then nothing could ever happen between them. He sighed and slumped into his chair. Nothing ever seemed to go his way.

Author's Note: I'm not able to respond to each of you individually, but please know I read and appreciate every single review you've written! Thank you so much, readers!


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